


yours truly, a heart of hope

by shibecafe (orphan_account)



Series: walkin' in time [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: (its barely angst), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, major character death isnt what you think! dont be alarmed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 06:13:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14611302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/shibecafe
Summary: A voice, quiet but charged with power and age, echoes in his mind.What do you seek?The human gasps. “I don’t know,” he whispers. He stills. He thinks. “A purpose? Knowledge.” He chances. “Or… A friend.”





	yours truly, a heart of hope

**Author's Note:**

> title from the video for walkin' in time by the boyz! stanzas taken from _under one small star_ by wislawa szymborska! [you can read the full poem here!](https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/under-one-small-star/)
> 
> i made a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/hongkensoo/playlist/24HoK67YAtOOPUAuOKkm48?si=KI7oq7zFRxKl50BvZBhzoA)! take a listen while you read
> 
> p.s; this is un-beta'd, because i'm lazy, and i'm too excited to share it. let me know if there's any mistakes!

_My apologies to chance for calling it necessity._  
_My apologies to necessity if I'm mistaken, after all._  
Please, don't be angry, happiness, that I take you as my due.

-

The stars are frighteningly bright tonight, twinkling and blinking from above the canopies of the forest that he treks through. The leaves sway with the breeze, casting dancing shadows through the moonlight as he walks and walks and walks. The path, the tug that the path brings, keeps pulling him gently, unceasingly, constantly.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, or why is he’s going there, but the forest brings a sense of peace and comfort that he never thought would come of a place so mysterious and fabled. It’s enough that he puts full trust in whatever he’s searching for.

Branches snap to his left, and he hears gentle snuffling. A deer pokes its head out of the brush, blinking in his direction. No fear or apprehension seems to cross the deer’s consciousness, and he’s grateful. A creature as kind and majestic as a deer should never feel fear, especially not in it’s home. Something bright flits past his periphery, but he pays it no mind. He bows deeply to the deer.

It’s the right choice, obviously, as the deer walks up to him, bowing its head in return. The human, because that’s what he is; a fragile human, places a hand in the space between the deer’s eyes. A voice, quiet but charged with power and age, echoes in his mind.

_What do you seek?_

The human gasps. “I don’t know,” he whispers. He stills. He thinks. “A purpose? Knowledge.” He chances. “Or… A friend.”

_A purpose. Knowledge. Companionship. Those are admirable things to seek. Are you sure you do not seek riches? A bountiful treasure? The love of your most dear?_

He can feel the centuries of life and wisdom in this deep voice, but is filled only with comfort and the notion that he can be as truthful as he wishes with this being. “I don’t need riches, or treasures. I already have the love of my most dear; my family are the dearest to me. I only want to know what I’m doing, where I’m going, what I’m _seeking_.” He feels like pleading, but he knows that he need not plead when this spirit will judge him of his worthiness based purely on his heart.

_I see your heart, and I trust your desires. You are pure beyond belief, Mark Lee. Don’t make me regret this._

The deer steps back, and disappears. In its place hovers a ball of light, golden and beautiful. Mark follows it as it trails further down the path. The light leads him past twists and turns until Mark is infinitely more confused than he was to begin with.

It feels like he walks for hours before the treeline abruptly parts. The moon shines unrestrained, illuminating pillars and a bridge parting the forest. The bridge is clearly old but looks structurally sound. Mark doesn’t hesitate to cross it. The bridge’s handholds are carved from something that shines, and Mark finds himself running his hands over them as he walks. The quiet flow of water fills the air.

When he reaches the end of the bridge, a fox darts across the path. He startles, but keeps following the light.

With the end of the bridge comes a proper path, made of stone and all. The stone is cracked and mossy, overtaken with plants that make way for him as he passes. The path widens as he walks, spanning across at least 10 metres the further he walks.

The sun begins to make its way over the horizon, colouring the sky in an array of pale blue and yellow. It rises directly in the centre of the path Mark takes. The light that guides him begins to flicker weakly before it disappears completely. Mark finds that he really doesn’t need the light anymore, anyway. The path is very clear to him now.

The trees become slightly more sparse as he makes his way up the inclining path. Small statues crop up, mostly of sun imagery. A dilapidated pavillion rises on his right.

Mark feels like he’s in a dream. The way the pale sunlight makes things feel washed out is odd. The air looks like it’s glittering. Leaves skitter across the path, chasing something unknown. If this is all a dream, Mark wishes he could never wake up from it.

Another fox, or maybe it’s the same fox from the bridge, scampers up to him before jumping up into Mark’s arms. He laughs breathlessly as the fox climbs up onto his shoulders. He’s flooding with warmth the more the walks, feeling some kind of joy and curiosity. It’s exhilarating.

-

 _May my dead be patient with the way my memories fade._ __  
_My apologies to time for all the world I overlook each second._  
My apologies to past loves for thinking that the latest is the first.

-

Mark spends hours wandering through the shrine. He wonders what Gods were worshipped here. Why this shrine has been left to fade away. His fox companion has long since jumped to the ground, leading him around. He picks his way over wild roots, explores the shattered remains of smaller shrines, and finds that nothing has ever felt as freeing and calming as this moment.

He feels like he’s running while time is sitting still, in his own little pocket of reality, a place so unique and so _his_ that he doesn’t feel any need to be anything other than himself. He laughs and tumbles and spends this time to be free.

When the sun is at its peak, shining brightly down on the shrine, the aura of the forest shift minutely. The shift is so miniscule that Mark almost doesn’t notice, but given the fact that his companion’s attention turns away from the fruit it was eating, he feels the change in atmosphere.

The air turns heavier, tension spreads over Mark’s limbs. The flowers that carpet the area turn towards the path that Mark followed. He can feel something big coming. Something important.

He waits with bated breath, eyes fixed on the sun smattered path.

Where there was no breeze before, a warm gust of air washes over Mark from the pathway. His fox companion crawls into his lap, staring just as intently at the path. Something that glows, something that feels like life itself, something that feels like _possibility_ begins walking up the path.

Mark is left dumbfounded as this entity morphs into a humanoid when it walks into his little spot. With warm, honey coloured skin, coppery red hair, eyes that glitter like they hold the whole universe and the softest cheeks Mark has ever seen, this boy looks like the closest thing to perfection that could possibly ever exist.

The boy smiles impishly at Mark. With a voice that sounds melodic, like bells and sunshine, the boy says; “Why are you at my shrine, puny mortal? I thought everyone had forgotten me.”

Another warm breeze passes through the clearing. Mark stares in awe as the boy’s skin seems to shimmer when he moves. “Uh,” he coughs. “A… deer sent me.”

The boy’s eyebrows raise. “The sacred deer sent you?” He squints at Mark. “Interesting. What are you seeking?”

Mark straightens up. “A purpose. Knowledge. A friend.” He’s confident in what he seeks.

His answer solicites a genuine, sweet smile. “Well, I’m sure you can gain some knowledge here. And it seems you’ve made a friend already.” He gestures to the fox that now sleeps in Mark’s lap. “I’m Haechan. Or, I was. Now I’m just Donghyuck.”

The name _Haechan_ sits in Mark’s brain, heavy and obvious but the meaning is just beyond Mark’s grasp. The name Donghyuck, on the other hand, wraps warmly around Mark’s heart. It fits the boy much more than _Haechan_.

“Mark Lee.” Mark grins brightly.

Donghyuck smiles. He seems to float over to where Mark is sat, before joining him on the forest floor too. Up close, he’s even more gorgeous. His wide eyes are bordered by criminally long eyelashes, his hands are slim and elegant, his hair looks unbelievably soft.

“So, Mark Lee, let me give you knowledge.” Donghyuck whispers it like it’s a secret, something sacred, and for all Mark knows, maybe he is about to share something sacred.

Donghyuck strings together a tale of fate, of Gods and pain and fire and love and _forgiveness_.

-

 _Forgive me, distant wars, for bringing flowers home._ __  
_Forgive me, open wounds, for pricking my finger._  
I apologize for my record of minuets to those who cry from the depths.

-

As a child, many millennia ago, Donghyuck had been a powerful woman’s secret. A bastard son, born of a regretful night in a court long forgotten. Raised in a palace of gold among the most prized people in society, he was hidden and treated as though he didn’t exist. By the time he was old enough to be considered his own person, Donghyuck had been acknowledged only by his mother and the palace priest.

 _You’ll be in for something big and wonderful, my baby,_ his mother had whispered to him on the darkest night. _You will get everything good, for you have had to endure the worst, and yet you still shine the brightest. You are my sun, and I shall love you forever._

Merely days later, Donghyuck’s mother had screamed as she woke and realise her only son, her reason for being alive, was dead and gone. She sobbed as she called for the palace priest, tearfully begging him to save her sunshine. The priest, unnaturally attached to both the mother and her son, did everything possible to save Donghyuck.

He searched high and low for solutions, before praying to his Gods and Goddesses to give this boy one last chance. After hours of sitting, pleading, _begging_ for Donghyuck to be saved, the Goddess of the heavens showed her face.

 _To save him, truly save him, you must give him to us wholly._ She was gentle, kind, understanding. The priest and the mother tearfully agreed, sobbed and asked for the Goddess’s help with raw throats.

 _I will make him a God,_ the Goddess whispered. _He will be the Sun, and you will never worry for him again._ And so it was. Donghyuck became Haechan, Full Sun, the brightest thing in the sea of darkness.

Haechan became the most celebrated and loved God of all. Kind, witty and mischievous, the most refreshing God the court had encountered in centuries. For as long as the kingdom had thrived, the God of the Sun was worshipped and given offerings. The people built a beautiful shrine in the forest for him, keeping it clean and safe for any and all citizens of the kingdom to come and pray. Years passed, and Haechan’s mother and the priest passed on.

The God, saddened, became more somber. Though still kind and helpful with the people, Haechan started to visit the kingdom less and less. Time passed slowly, until only a few people remembered the God of the Sun.

Then, no one did, and his shrine went to waste.

Haechan disappeared.

-

 _I apologize to those who wait in railway stations for being asleep today at five a.m._ __  
_Pardon me, hounded hope, for laughing from time to time._  
Pardon me, deserts, that I don't rush to you bearing a spoonful of water.

-

Mark finds that his eyes are damp with tears when Donghyuck finishes his story. His heart aches deeply, but Donghyuck laughs when he sees Mark’s expression.

“Why are you crying, silly human? It’s a sad story, yes, but you shouldn’t cry for things that have happened.” Donghyuck brushes away Mark’s tears gently. His hands are soft, warm and delicate. Mark hangs his head. “I’m serious, Mark Lee. I’m quite content with my life now. It’s peaceful.”

“But you’ve been _alone_!” Mark whines pitifully. He wishes he could grab Donghyuck’s hands, hold them close, erase any sadness Donghyuck has ever felt.

Another soft laugh. “I’ve been alone, but I haven’t been lonely.” He stretches, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Now, tell me about you.”

-

 _And you, falcon, unchanging year after year, always in the same cage,_ __  
_your gaze always fixed on the same point in space,_  
forgive me, even if it turns out you were stuffed.

-

Mark grew up in Canada, spending his time playing guitar and reading. Son to an English professor and a meteorologist, he grew up with scholars and learnt to make the most of the knowledge he could get his hands on. He read up on mythology, musical theory, science and literature, anything that he could find.

His brother joked that he was like a walking encyclopedia. His friends told him he was a nerd. It never bothered him much, not until high school when he had to start thinking about what he wanted to do in life.

Mostly, he wanted to do music, or he wanted to write. His mother encouraged him to try both, so when college came around, he chose to become a Music major with a Creative Writing minor. The courses were hard, but Mark made it out largely unscathed. In his freshman year, he’d started posting his self-produced tracks online, which eventually lead to him getting scouted and signed by a large company in Korea. He packed up shop after graduation, said goodbye to his family, and set off.

When he wasn’t producing, writing lyrics, rapping, doing anything and everything the company let him, he was writing stories. He set out on leave to find inspiration for a novel, travelling the country and learning about everything he could. He’d ended up in a small town in the countryside, staying there for a few months. He took up a part time job at one of the little stores and became close with the locals.

The ahjumma that ran the store told him about the supposedly magical forest, how all sorts of odd happenings used to go on up there. She told him the tale of the hidden shrine, secreted away in the deepest part of the forest, accessible to only the purest of heart. Supposedly, the God of the Forest would only let those he judged worthy past a certain point.

The story fascinated Mark, so he packed a bag and set off into the forest himself. He’d tripped over roots, gotten lost, and had maybe cried when he couldn’t figure out what he was doing. Eventually, his mind cleared enough that he could see the stars twinkling like promises in the sky.

-

 _My apologies to the felled tree for the table's four legs._ __  
_My apologies to great questions for small answers._ __  
_Truth, please don't pay me much attention._  
Dignity, please be magnanimous.

-

“And then you ended up here, hm?” Donghyuck mumbles. Halfway through Mark’s story, he’d sprawled over the ground, watching Mark gesture and talk about his family.

Mark nods. “And then I ended up here.”

Shadows reach out to touch them, long and dark and a testament to how long the two of them have spent together. When Mark looks at Donghyuck properly, he can see how much dimmer the God - former God? - looks compared when Mark first saw him.

He frowns and lets out a huff. “Donghyuck… I should go.”

Donghyuck looks up at him through those painfully long lashes. “Will you come back tomorrow?” He sounds hopeful, speaking quietly, eyebrows drawn together.

Mark finds that he doesn’t need to think about his answer. “Of course I will. I’m not sure how I’ll get back, though.” His frown deepens.

“Oh, your little fox friend will lead you, I’m sure.” Donghyuck smiles sweetly. Mark hums.

“In that case, well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He waves jovially before setting off down the path, the little fox leading the way.

-

 _Bear with me, O mystery of existence, as I pluck the occasional thread from your train._ __  
_Soul, don't take offense that I've only got you now and then._  
My apologies to everything that I can't be everywhere at once.

-

For days after their first encounter, Mark ventures into the forest to sit with Donghyuck. He sets out before sunrise, and makes it to their clearing just after the sun is sitting comfortably above the horizon. By the time he walks up the path, Donghyuck is always there, grinning radiantly at him.

They set a comfortable rhythm; Mark tells Donghyuck about his world, and Donghyuck tells Mark about the past. Sometimes, they just sit comfortably in silence, Donghyuck napping and Mark writing. Eventually, Mark starts bringing books up from town for Donghyuck to read.

Their friendship is simple, sweet. Mark thinks that maybe this is what love feels like. The time they spend together passes both slowly and at lightspeed.

After another two months, Mark’s company calls him he’s used all his vacation days. He dreads having to tell Donghyuck. The next time he’s at their clearing, he feels awful, and it stays that way until Donghyuck snaps at him.

“Why are you so tense? I can feel your anxiety from over here.” He sniffs primly.

Mark scratches his neck. “I’m sorry.” Donghyuck scoffs goodnaturedly, but sobers when he sees Mark’s distressed expression.

“Hey, no, it’s okay. What’s wrong?” He crawls over and leans his head on Mark’s shoulder.

Mark inhales sharply. “My company called me.” Donghyuck hums, playing with Mark’s hand. “They want me to go back to Seoul.”

“Oh.” Donghyuck pauses. “Are… Are you going back?”

“I don’t have a choice, really. I need this job, and I’ve used up all my vacation days. I really don’t want to leave.” His eyes sting. He _doesn’t_ want to leave, not at all. He’s _happy_ here. Happier than he was in Seoul. Donghyuck looks up at him and coos gently, wiping Mark’s tears away like he did the first time they met. Mark laughs wetly and bats Donghyuck’s hands away. “Stop it, let me cry!”

“No way, dude.” That makes Mark laugh again. Donghyuck has picked up so many modern mannerisms since they first met. “Man, c’mon, don’t get all teary on me. Listen, you go back to your big old city, and when you can, you can come back. I’ll be here waiting for you. Also, I’m a God, so I can just… wait. I have time.”

Mark feels his face crumple. He doesn’t want Donghyuck to have to wait for him, because Donghyuck will be alone again. He lets out an aborted sob. He watches as Donghyuck’s smile fades and his eyes fill with tears too.

The two of them end up crying together, laying on the forest floor. Mark feels terribly empty at the thought of leaving the person he now considers his closest and most cherished friend.

Eventually they get up. Right before sunset, Donghyuck does something unusual: he walks Mark back to the edge of the bridge. He can’t cross the bridge, for whatever weird reason, but Mark doesn’t ask any questions.

As they stand together, watching the creek flow unhindered, Mark wonders what it would feel like to be able to kiss Donghyuck, just once. He turns to look at his companion. The golden light makes Donghyuck more beautiful than he’s ever been, and Mark smiles.

Donghyuck looks back at him after a minute. He tilts his head, and Mark laughs at him. He’s so incredibly fond. Donghyuck smiles wryly. “Well, puny mortal? Run along.”

Mark squints, and finally decides to throw all caution to the wind.

He kisses Donghyuck, nothing spectacular, just a soft press of lips while he holds Donghyuck’s face gently. Donghyuck hums.

When they part, Donghyuck grins. “Took you long enough, silly human.”

Mark rolls his eyes. “Shut up.” There’s no heat in the statement.

“I really don’t want you to go.” Donghyuck leans his head on Mark’s chest, arms wrapped loosely around his hips.

“I’ll be back really soon. I swear.” He runs his hand through Donghyuck’s hair. “Hey, Hyuck?”

“What.” The reply is muffled by Mark’s shirt.

“I really like you,” Mark whispers. “And I swear I’ll be back.”

-

 _My apologies to everyone that I can't be each woman and each man._ __  
_I know I won't be justified as long as I live,_  
since I myself stand in my own way.

-

Mark visits the forest every week, for three years. Eventually, he asks Donghyuck to marry him. Donghyuck laughs, and agrees. They’re happy.

After six years, Mark is sitting in his studio, staring at the ring on his left hand. He and Donghyuck aren’t officially married, but, well. Mark doesn’t care. Work is steady, and life is pretty good, but he knows it would be better if Donghyuck was with him.

Once the day is done, he packs up and drives back to his apartment. The moon is out, though it’s no match for the bright city lights.

He thinks that Donghyuck would like the city. Donghyuck loves everything Mark shows him, though, so maybe it doesn’t matter.

Mark parks in front of his house. Something is off. Or, more precisely, something is _on_. The lights in his house are on. And he knows he left them off. It’s probably Johnny, he thinks. He throws his bag over his shoulder and trudges up to the door.

It’s unlocked, which is annoying, but Mark pushes on.

When he walks into the living room, he sees a head of red hair poking over the couch back. His heart shudders unsteadily in his chest, and he thinks he might cry.

When Donghyuck’s blindingly bright smile shows itself, Mark does cry.

“Don’t cry, silly little human. Life has just begun.”

-

 _Don't bear me ill will, speech, that I borrow weighty words,_ _  
_ _then labor heavily so that they may seem light._

**Author's Note:**

> the shrine that mark found donghyuck at was heavily inspired by [the ise-jingu shrine](https://www.jnto.go.jp/eng/spot/shritemp/isejingunaiku.html) in japan! it's a really gorgeous shinto shrine! [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=72Zc_E3-HAM) is a beautiful video of the shrine. i encourage you to watch it if you had trouble visualising the shrine i wrote! my shrine and the naiku have many differences, but the bridge in the forest was directly written about the naiku. (a fun fact, if you don't wish to read the page i linked: the ise jingu is dedicated to amaterasu omikami, the sun goddess! i thought it appropriate to base my shrine for donghyuck the sun god off a shrine for a sun goddess.)
> 
> tell me your thoughts via [twitter](https://twitter.com/shibecafes) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/quanszhe)! (feel free to leave prompts in my cc inbox~~)


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